Alex Pretti, an ICU nurse for the Minneapolis Veterans, was forced to his knees, beaten, disarmed, and executed early on Jan. 24 in Minneapolis by masked federal border patrol agents. 

Unfortunately, it’s not even surprising. Not even a month before Pretti was killed, on Jan. 7, ICE agent Johnathan Ross shot Renee Good in the head after she attempted to flee from officers in her car. Federal officials immediately defended Ross’ actions claiming that he had acted in self defense and helped him flee the state with his wife. A gofundme page was created for the officer raising more than $750,000 so far. 

Vigil and protest at the Seattle Federal Building

In response to the killing of Pretti, a handful of community groups held a vigil for all those killed by ICE, outside the federal building in Seattle on Saturday evening Jan. 24.

There were speakers, but I’d already lost interest as soon as they opened their mouths. One of the speakers announced, “He’s going to play a song for us.” It was some folk-punk thing about beating up fascists and Trump rolling around in shit. I’ve heard too many of these same voices at previous events, with the same tone and messaging as things get worse and worse. That’s my problem with it all, it was another announcement that ‘we don’t agree with this,’ while ICE dresses up as construction workers, tricking our neighbors out of their homes to let attack dogs maul them.

I tried to get as far away from that noise as possible. I stumbled into some old men, one was quite drunk and lighting a cigarette with one of the vigil candles. I asked them what they thought should happen. “There are enough of us here to take over this building,” the drunk one said.

The crowd finally started marching into the streets. Block after block, chanting things like “No justice, no peace” – a slogan from the BLM protests nearly six years ago, which rang hollow considering the peaceful march. The march rounded another corner and passed by a candle lit restaurant, their inhabitants grinning out with a kind of chimpanzee smile that makes you forget who’s in the cage.

We ended up back to where we started by 7 p.m., and everyone was able to make it home for dinner. As the plaza cleared out, I noticed that there was a candled memorial tucked away in a corner. It was larger than I expected. When I looked closer I saw why – there were around 40 names besides Renee Good or Alex Pretti. The majority of them died while inside immigration custody. You don’t hear about these often.

“It’s okay, yeah we’ll clean it up,” said a few of the organizers who were talking to some Department of Homeland Security Officers. 

“Okay, and we appreciate that. You have to understand this is a lot for us too. You don’t understand what we’re feeling,” the officer said.  

“Then quit your jobs! You’re literally the bad guys,” a voice called out from a different group of protestors. 

“Have a good night,” the lead officer nodded with a muted grin before heading back inside.

A woman asked me if they were ICE agents and I said I wasn’t sure. I asked around a bit more about how people felt and everyone seemed to be in a daze. I turned back to get some final photos of the candlelight memorial but it was gone. 

Capitol Hill

After hearing talk of a vigil on the following Monday, Jan. 26, I decided to go. I got there about 20 minutes before it was supposed to start. The memorial was alone on top of a hill on the northeast corner of Seattle’s Cal Anderson Park, by the fountain which would turn on intermittently so the pipes wouldn’t freeze. The moon hung half hollowed out just above.

An amount of people that I could count on my hands had shown up and they didn’t say much. The moon was gone now and obscured by the clouds. They lit candles and set them around the little memorial. After the group had decided that enough candles were lit one of the girls said she had a poem to read by Amanda Goreman. The crowd of people, whose knees were visibly muddied by the glow of the candles set up moments earlier and the pale white flare from the park’s lamps, listened. 

Nobody said anything after that. A person in nurse scrubs showed up with a little plastic candle in their hand, which seemed to make everything even quieter, say for the constant sniffling. We just stared at these pictures of Pretti, likely taken off his social media. 

He was an athletic guy, a nurse. He looked like any average joe you’d see in Seattle, in their puffer jackets and chelsea boots drinking coffee. The type who went to college and did everything you’re told you’re supposed to do. The type that you’d expect to see living. 

Thirty minutes later after almost everyone else had gone, so did the nurse and then I did too. I went to Harborview to find another vigil one attendee talked about, but I couldn’t find it. 

On the Light Rail home I talked to some old folks with ‘ICE OUT’ signs. Apparently they had gone to the federal building to protest. We talked for a bit and they mentioned that they joined a community watch group near their grandchildren’s school. 

“You have to be prepared, you know,” the grandmother told me. 

I hated to be so obvious but I pointed out how ridiculous that we’re saying this in America, land of the free.